Spring, Spring, Spring
by wawwhite
Summary: Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. 7 one shots about each couple during the song "Spring, Spring, Spring." Adam/Milly, Benjamin/Dorcas, Caleb/Ruth, Daniel/Martha, Ephraim/Liza, Frank/Sarah, Gideon/Alice.
1. Regular Tizzy

Ruth's stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies. No, actually these dancing, twirling, spasming butterflies were threatening to choke her throat and pour out her ears. That was, of course, if butterflies were residing in her and the trembling sickness wasn't just nerves.

Nerves. It wasn't like she had any reason to be nervous; Caleb was a sweet man, the sweetest she'd ever known. Caleb was good and kind and handsome and brave and romantic… and oh! it was all too much. The butterflies protested violently.

Ruth felt weak and trembly all over. As Alice finished smoothing Ruth's golden curls, she said sweetly, "There, Ruth, you're all finished. You look so lovely."

Too soon! Ruth thought that Alice would need longer. Now she had go out and face Caleb, and she didn't feel at all ready...

Alice's hand on her shoulder stopped her panicked thoughts. "Oh, don't be nervous, Ruth! You and Caleb are simply perfect for each other." Ruth looked over her shoulder at the younger girl's face. Alice was sighing wistful, and Ruth had to smile at her friend's romantic sensibilities.

With a deep breath, Ruth rose and thanked Alice, "You did a wonderful job."

Alice smiled, ducking her head a bit, shyly. "Go on, now," she bit her lip, blushing, "Caleb is waiting for you in the yard."

Ruth walked slowly out the room and downstairs, desperately trying to push down the butterflies. Why, oh why, did she have to be so nervous! She lov— enjoyed being with Caleb, didn't she?

Finally making her way to the front door, Ruth stared at her trembling hands. She couldn't' do it - there was no way that she could calm herself down enough to make any sense when talking with Caleb. She'd just have to keep her mouth closed with a smile and try not to shake too much.

Hesitantly, she opened the door to the bright, spring sunshine. Blinking, she saw Caleb, dressed in his best shirt, which matched the sprouting daffodils in the grass. He was holding a bouquet of wildflowers and wearing a grin as bright as the sun.

Ruth's heart stopped for a second, then resumed beating. It wasn't pounding though. Gone were the fluttering in her stomach and the trembling in her hands. Confident, Ruth walked down the porch and stood by Caleb's side. She smiled up at him, sighing a bit as the last butterflies sailed out.


	2. Baby Sitterin

"Do you like babies?"

Benjamin looked over at Dorcas who was perched on the rail beside him peering down at the newborn chicks. He wasn't exactly sure what she meant, but answered, "Yeah, I like 'em all right. Haven't seen one since Gideon finally grew up, though."

Dorcas smiled and said, "I like babies too," but didn't say anything else. Benjamin crossed his arms as he leaned forward watching the chicks scurry after their mother as she searched for the best morsels to eat.

The wooden fence creaked as Dorcas shifted her weight slightly. He felt her purple skirt brush against his leg and wondered if she realized their arms were almost touching. He smiled to himself, knowing she probably did.

"I like lots of babies."

Benjamin started, but then she hadn't said that she _wanted_ lots of babies, just that she liked them. That was still appropriate, right? It was difficult, following all of Milly's rules and guidelines. He disliked making mistakes and appearing rude. After the fiasco with Adam and his idea of "The Sobbin' Women," he really wanted to get back in the girls' good graces, especially Dorcas's.

He realized that Dorcas was waiting for a response, "I don't know if I like lots of them all at once; might be a bit much to handle, but maybe if they were spread out."

"Boys or girls?"

To be honest, he hadn't ever considered the idea. "Seems like there's more than enough boys around here – girls might be a nice change." Dorcas smiled warmly up at him, and Benjamin grinned broadly back, happy that he'd said the right thing.

"You wouldn't mind a daughter?"

Benjamin felt his neck redden, embarrassed to be talking about having children of his own... seeing as how children came to be in this world, least as far as Adam had explained. He choked, "I wouldn't mind a daughter... in fact, I wouldn't mind several."

Dorcas moved a bit closer, her arm pressed against his. "I'm glad you think that. It wouldn't have to be just daughters; I'd like a couple of boys too."

Benjamin only smiled, hoping this conversation was good manners and all that. It must be, seeing as how Dorcas was leading him along.

"You know," stated Dorcas with a cat-like smile at him, "I wouldn't mind a baby right off... once I found the right man to marry."

She had to be playin' him, didn't she? She had to be teasing about getting married. Benjamin knew he needed to give it right back or he'd lose face. As he leaned close to her ear, his voice deepened and he suggested, "Now, that sounds like a right good idea to me."

Close to her, feeling her warmth, he heard Dorcas sigh. With warning, she moved closer, between his arm and fence until her side was pressed against his. It felt so right as Benjamin lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders, pulling her tight. They didn't say anything more as they watched the young chicks and contemplated their futures - together.


	3. Plans in View

A breeze blew lightly across the pond, causing ripples to gently stir the surface. The warm spring sun was partially blocked by the lacy framework of leaves from the trees above. It still shone through in places, mixing with the cool breeze to create the perfect temperature - just between warm and cool. It was the perfect afternoon.

The slender shadow of a trout slid through the water in the clear water, bubbles breaking the surface in its wake. The sounds of rustling leaves, chirping birds, and a hawk calling overhead made the place feel peaceful and good.

Suddenly, the birds stilled and it was easy to hear footsteps coming through the grove of trees as they made their way to the pond. A young lady in a blue dress and a young man in a red shirt walked under the branches and around the dense bushes. When they got to the edge, he took her hand and helped her climb up on the truck of a tree that lay parallel to the bank. Sometime in youth it had fallen, perhaps knocked over by a storm, but it had survived, growing upwards at its end, creating a sturdy seat for the pair.

Low branches hung in a canopy over their heads as the girl crouched on the trunk and the boy sat next to her. She held a bunch of flowers in hands and started lazily picking the petals off one by one. He held a crust of bread and started throwing crumbs into the pond attracted a few small fish.

They were quiet, just sitting together for a few minutes until the birds started singing again and flitting through the branches, feeling that the couple was no threat.

Then the girl spoke softly, not wanting to spoil the peaceful moment, "It's lovely here, Frank."

Frank ducked his head. "This is my favorite place. I like to come here to get away when my brothers are being a pain." He tossed a bit of bread, and it plopped into the pond.

"Thank you for sharing it with me."

Their eyes met. "You're welcome, Sarah."

She flushed and looked down at the spread of petals in her lap. Frank reached and took her hand in his; their fingers twined together.

They were silent for a bit, just looking out over the water and enjoying the breeze, until Frank asked, "Do you ever thinking about leaving?" Sarah looked up him, eyes wide. "Do you ever think about traveling and seeing the world?"

"Sometimes; I've always enjoyed my papa's stories about growing up in Indian Country and Milly's book about ancient places all over the world."

Frank leaned his head back and rested against the branch behind him. "I do like hearing stories about those places."

Sarah wondered if she heard a note of sadness in his voice or just imagined it. "Do you really want to leave?" she asked.

Looking out across the water, Frank said after a moment's hesitation, "No. I love this place and I don't really want to leave. As much as I like hearing about other places, I know this is the best." He looked at her, appearing worried.

With a squeeze of her hand in his, Sarah responded, "I know how you feel. I've found home, and I don't think I could bear to leave it."

Frank wanted to hug Sarah close and cover her lips with kisses, but instead settled for whispering huskily, "If I did go anywhere, I'd want to go with you."

Her eyes were bright and her cheeks glowed rosy; Sarah couldn't think of anything to say, but knew she didn't need to.

It was odd, the pair of them - when they were alone together they seemed to be different people. They could be themselves around each other. Frank wasn't constantly putting up a defense and losing his temper. Sarah never felt shy around Frank and didn't have to worry about impressing him and acting like a perfect lady - he was already fond of her and wouldn't have known the difference. Together, they were happy, sweet, and comfortable. There was an undercurrent of passion for each other that kept every moment together exciting, but they were content with only sneaking off and holding hands - for now, at least.

Frank traced soft circles in Sarah's palm, promising something more, something neither of them fully understood, only feeling the rightness of being together. They talked more, enjoying their spring afternoon and each other's company.


	4. Spring Daisies

Liza felt like a child again. It was silly to be racing around the daisy-covered hill, dancing around the spring flowers and chasing her sweetheart.

Or maybe Ephraim was chasing her. It really didn't matter who was going after whom; it just felt good to run. It was entirely unladylike, but Liza couldn't care less. She often felt confined by the rules her parents made her follow - sit up straight, walk gracefully, keep your voice soft. But here, in the semi-wild backcountry, she felt free. Here she could what she whatever she wanted, whatever was fun and exciting.

Right now she wanted to feel free. The she twirled in a circle, arms stretched out to the wildness around her. She stopped to watch a pair of doves break cover and fly into the bright, blue sky. Ephraim grabbed her hand and swung her around, until he pulled her into his arms. She looked up at him as she held him close.

Tomorrow, she would think about being a lady, but today she just wanted to be a child again - free and wild and loved.


	5. Eagle Eye

"Gideon, I don't think I can climb up there." Alice's blue eyes stared up at Gideon who had climbed a blossoming apple tree and was now perched among the highest branches.

Gideon looked down at her with an apologetic smile, "I'll come down and help ya." With a twist and drop, he dropped gracefully through the branches and landed on his feet next to Alice, who clapped appreciatively. Alice was the sweetest girl he'd ever acquainted, and he felt overwhelmed thinking that she liked him right back. It was more than he'd ever imagined.

"Can you hoist yerself up to the first branch?" he asked, grabbing onto a thick branch at Alice's eyelevel.

Alice shook her head; there was no way she'd be able to get up there all by herself, especially in a dress. "I don't think I'll be able to." She hoped he wasn't disappointed in her lack of tree-climbing skill.

"Don't worry; I'll help ya. Now hold on to the branch and pull yerself up when I lift ya." Alice obeyed, gingerly putting her hands on the limb. Gideon put his hands on her waist and prepared to lift her, but froze when he heard Alice's quick intake of breath. "Did I hurt ya?" Gideon asked in a panic.

Alice turned her face towards his and shook her head "no." Gideon suddenly realized how close they were to each other; their faces were mere inches away. He could smell her, fresher and better than the apples that would so grow on the tree in front of them.

He didn't know what to - should he let go and move away or keep holding on? Was this the larkin' or sparkin' that Milly had talked about? Alice didn't pull away or slap him or anything (not that she i_would/i_), so he decided to stay where he was.

With a swallow, he got out, "On the count of three, I'll lift ya, and then ya climb, all right?"

Alice nodded and turned away. He hoped she wasn't scared... or uncomfortable with him being so close. Gideon bent his knees, saying, "One... two... three!" On three he lifted Alice up by her waist. He misjudged how hard he needed to push and overenthusiastically hoisted her almost too far. Alice gave a little shriek but managed to grab the next branch up above her head. Gideon made sure she was steady before he jumped up next to her. The tree creaked a bit, but the limb was strong enough to hold them both.

Creating a barrier around Alice, Gideon gripped the trunk on either side of her, keeping her safely in the middle. Alice smiled at him, and he started helping her climb further up. Step by step they made their way, Gideon pointing out where to step and what branch to hold on to. They didn't climb too far up, much lower that Gideon would have normally gone, but he didn't want to frighten her.

Together they hung on to the tree, Alice seated on a large branch and Gideon standing on another limb lower down, even with each other. They were surrounded by fragrant apple blossoms. Gideon gently removed a few petals that had gotten caught in her hair, earning himself a grateful glance.

"I've never climbed a tree before," Alice confessed, hoping he wouldn't think poorly of her.

"Ya did a great job," Gideon encouraged, switching positions. Alice watched him in amusement; he was a squirrel or a bird, darting from one spot to the next, skilled in every movement like he was born in a nest instead of a home.

"I like being up here," she continued softly, "with you."

Gideon's heart swelled. He didn't have words to describe how he felt, but if Alice would always make him feel this way, he never wanted to leave her.

After that, they talked of different things, Gideon pointing out different landmarks from their eagle's-eye view of the farm. Soon Alice's hands grew sore from holding on to the rough bark, so they decided to come back down to earth, though their heads would remain in the clouds for a long while.

Gideon began quickly climbing out of the tree, leaving Alice room to follow. He reached the bottom and looked back up at Alice. He heard her nervously ask, "Gideon, how do I get down from here?"


	6. Bed of Roses

Martha breathed deeply taking in the lush smell of the red rose that Daniel had bidden Milly to give her. The red-as-love petals were silky against her nose. Daniel had thoughtfully snapped off the thorns, saving her fingers from an accidental pricking. He was so thoughtful.

Martha appreciated Daniel's understated personality; both of them were quieter than the others, content to let them lead the way. Martha's mother always said that she had a simple personality; Martha supposed that she and Daniel were simple in that way. She didn't mind; she never understood coyness or playing games. In her opinion, straightforwardness was best.

However, Martha knew that there were hidden depths to her own personality. The way being with Daniel made her feel showed her that. She found herself willing to change her own rules for him. She found herself less worried about what was appropriate, and focusing more on how wonderful she felt with him.

Tying her hair back, Martha peered at her reflection in the small mirror that Milly had let the girls borrow and take upstairs. Satisfactory. In fact, she thought her cheeks looked rosier than usual. Must be the heat in the room.

Martha rose and looked around the room. Seeing that she was still alone, she walked over to the north-facing window. She pushed aside the curtain, giving an open view to the yard in the back of the house. The shutters were open - the girls rarely bothered to shut them, since they ended up open soon after. She looked down, hoping just for a glimpse. The other girls were downstairs or outside, so hopefully he would figure that she was still upstairs and be looking for her.

There he was! Daniel walked out from inside the bar, making his way to the house. He hadn't seen her yet, so Martha took the time to admire his strong, tall frame and confident walk. Her heart skipped, and she held his rose up to her nose once more. Looking around to see if anyone had seen him, Daniel cautiously looked up at her window. His face broke into a heart-stopping grin when he saw her standing there.

Forget simple; forget understated; Daniel was the most handsome, most wonderful, most perfect man that she had ever met. When he looked at her like that, like she was the most beautiful, most precious princess in the world, she felt so alive. Her heart opened to him, and she smiled back, lifting the rose so he could see it. But it wasn't enough - she had to see him!

With a twirl of her green skirt, she spun around and raced across the room and downstairs to meet him, leaving the curtains open behind her.


	7. Spring, Spring, Spring

Spring was coming. Milly could feel it - a warmth, a glow - that didn't just come from the new life inside her. It was time for sunshine, clear skies, warmth, green things, birth, and life. Milly wasn't sure how she knew - it had been one of the coldest winters in Oregon Territory in a long time; at least as far as she could remember. It had snowed only yesterday, and piles of icy white covered the ground. There wasn't a bird in sight; not a single crocus had popped its head out of the ground; and there wasn't the slightest trickle of melting water.

But somehow, Milly knew. Spring was coming. She could feel it her bones.

Adam frowned as he tied the last of the furs in a sturdy bundle. Spending all winter had been a miserable experience, not only because how harsh and bitter the weather was this high and deep into the mountains, but because he was lonely. At first he hadn't minded being away from his temperamental brothers, but he quickly missed them - their help, if not their voices. He found himself missing _her_ the most.

It hurt to think about her - Milly, his wife.

The only way he stopped himself from racing down the mountain and making a dang fool outta hisself by begging her to take him back, was not thinking about her at all. For months he closed his thoughts of happier times. He chose to remain angry or proud or nothing at all. I wouldn't do any good to feel sorry.

But when Gideon, that blasted fool, had come visiting, bringing news of Milly and a- a baby, all his determination had fled, stripping him raw. He felt waves of sorry and loneliness and guilt come rushing back. Once he got over his principled annoyance of having a girl, he quickly warmed to the idea of _his_ girl. _His _little girl.

He was a dang fool.

Spring was here. He'd ridden out to check the pass this morning; it would be clear by tomorrow after next. He didn't know what awaited him, if he had ruined it all beyond repair, but he had to go, to warn them, to try to make things right, to see _her_... and _his_ little girl.


End file.
